Enter Monsieur De Gard, and a Foot-Boy.
[De Ga.] Sirrah, you know I have rid hard; stir my Horse well
And let him want no Litter.
Boy. I am sure I have run hard,
Would some body would walk me, & see me Litter'd;
For I think my fellow-horse, cannot in reason
Desire more rest, nor take up his Chamber before me,
But we are the Beasts now, and the Beasts are our Masters.
De Ga. When you have done, step to the Ten-Crown Ordinary.
Boy. With all my heart, Sir,
For I have a Twenty Crown stomach.
De Ga. And there bespeak a dinner.
Boy. Yes Sir, presently.
De Ga. For whom, I beseech you, Sir?
Boy. For my self, I take it, Sir.
De Ga. In truth ye shall not take it, 'tis not meant for you,
There's for your Provender: Bespeak a Dinner
For Monsieur Mirabell, and his Companions,
They'll be in Town within this hour.
When you have done, Sirrah,
Make ready all things at my Lodging, for me,
And wait me there.
Boy. The Ten Crown Ordinary?
De Ga. Yes Sir, if you have not forgot it.
Boy. I'le forget my feet first;
'Tis the best part of a Foot-mans faith. [Exit Boy.
De Ga. These youths
For all they have been in Italy, to learn thrift,
And seem to wonder at mens lavish waies,
Yet they cannot rub off old friends, their French itches;
They must meet sometimes to disport their Bodies
With good Wine, and good Women; and good store too.
Let 'em be what they will, they are Arm'd at all points,
And then hang saving. Let the Sea grow high,
This Ordinary can fit 'em of all sizes,
Enter La-Castre and Oriana.
They must salute their Country with old customes.
Ori. Brother.
De Ga. My dearest Sister.
Ori. Welcome, welcome:
Indeed ye are welcome home, most welcome.
De Ga. Thank ye,
You are grown a handsome woman, Oriana,
(Blush at your faults) I am wondrous glad to see ye.
Monsieur La-Castre: Let not my Affection
To my fair Sister, make me be held unmannerly:
I am glad to see ye well, to see ye lusty,
Good health about ye, and in fair company,
Believe me, I am proud—
La-Cast. Fair Sir, I thank ye:
Monsieur de Gard, you are welcome from your journey,
Good men, have still good welcome: give me your hand, Sir.
Once more, you are welcome home: you look still younger.
De Ga. Time has no leasure to look after us.
We wander every where: Age cannot find us.
La-Cast. And how does all?
De Ga. All well, Sir; and all lusty.
La-Cast. I hope my Son be so, I doubt not, Sir,
But you have often seen him in your journeys,
And bring me some fair News.
De Ga. Your Son is well, Sir,
And grown a proper Gentleman: he is well, and lusty,
Within this eight hours, I took leave of him,
And over-ey'd him, having some slight business
That forc'd me out o'th' way: I can assure you
He will be here to night.
La-Cast. Ye make me glad, Sir,
For o' my faith, I almost long to see him,
Me thinks he has been away—
De Ga. 'Tis but your tenderness;
What are three years? a love-sick wench will allow it:
His friends that went out with him are come back too;
Belleur, and young Pinac: he bid me say little,
Because he means to be his own glad Messenger.
La-Ca. I thank ye for this news, Sir, he shall be welcome,
And his friends too: indeed I thank you heartily:
And how (for I dare say, you will not flatter him)
Has Italy wrought on him? has he mew'd yet
His wild fantastick Toyes? they say that Climate
Is a great purger of those humorous Fluxes.
How is he improved, I pray ye?
De Ga. No doubt, Sir, well.
H'as born himself a full, and noble Gentleman,
To speak him farther is beyond my Charter.
La-Cast. I am glad to hear so much good; Come, I see
You long to enjoy your Sister: yet I must intreat ye
Before I go, to sup with me to night
And must not be deni'd.
De Ga. I am your servant.
La-C. Where you shall meet fair, merry, and noble Company.
My neighbour Natolet, and his two fair Daughters.
De G. Your supper's season'd well, Sir. I shall wait upon ye.
La-C. Till then I'le leave ye: and y'are once more welcome.
De G. I thank ye, noble Sir. Now, Oriana, [Exit.
How have ye done since I went? have ye had your health well?
And your mind free?
Oria. You see I am not bated;
Merry, and eat my meat.
De G. A good preservative.
And how have you been us'd? You know, Oriana,
Upon my going out, at your request,
I left your Portion in La-Castre's hands,
(The main Means you must stick to) for that reason
(And 'tis no little one) I ask ye, Sister,
With what humanity he entertains ye,
And how ye find his courtesie?
Oria. Most ready.
I can assure you, Sir, I am us'd most nobly.
De G. I am glad to hear it: But I prethee tell me,
(And tell me true) what end had you, Oriana,
In trusting your mony here? He is no Kinsman,
Nor any tie upon him of a Guardian;
Nor dare I think ye doubt my prodigality.
Or. No, certain, Sir, none of all this provoked me;
Another private reason.
De G. 'Tis not private,
Nor carryed so: 'tis common (my fair Sister)
Your love to Mirabel; your blushes tell it:
'Tis too much known, and spoken of too largely;
And with no little shame I wonder at it.
Oria. Is it a shame to love?
De G. To love undiscreetly:
A Virgin should be tender of her honour,
Close, and secure.
Oria. I am as close as can be,
And stand upon as strong and honest guards too;
Unless this Warlike Age need a Port-cullis:
Yet I confess, I love him.
De G. Hear the people.
Oria. Now I say hang the people: He that dares
Believe what they say, dares be mad, and give
His Mother, nay his own Wife up to Rumor;
All grounds of truth they build on, is a Tavern,
And their best censure's Sack, Sack in abundance:
For as they drink, they think: they ne're speak modestly
Unless the wine be poor, or they want mony.
Believe them? believe Amadis de Gaul,
The Knight o'th' Sun, or Palmerin of England;
For these, to them, are modest, and true stories.
Pray understand me; if their tongues be truth,
And if in Vino veritas be an Oracle,
What Woman is, or has been ever honest?
Give 'em but ten round cups, they'll swear Lucretia
Dy'd not for want of power to resist Tarquin,
But want of Pleasure, that he stay'd no longer:
And Portia, that was famous for her Piety
To her lov'd Lord, they'll face ye out, dy'd o'th' Pox.
De G. Well, there is something, Sister.
Oria. If there be, Brother,
'Tis none of their things, 'tis not yet so monstrous;
My thing is Marriage: And at his return
I hope to put their squint-eyes right again.
De G. Marriage? 'tis true; his Father is a rich man;
Rich both in land and money: he his heir,
A young and handsome man, I must confess too;
But of such qualities, and such wild flings,
Such admirable imperfections, Sister,
(For all his Travel, and bought experience)
I should be loth to own him for my Brother:
Methinks a rich mind in a state indifferent
Would prove the better fortune.
Oria. If he be wild,
The reclaiming him to good, and honest, (Brother)
Will make much for my honour; which, if I prosper,
Shall be the study of my love, and life too.
De G. Ye say well; would he thought as well, and loved too.
He Marry? he'll be hanged first: he knows no more
What the conditions and the ties of Love are,
The honest purposes and grounds of Marriage,
Nor will know, nor be ever brought t' endeavour,
Than I do how to build a Church; he was ever
A loose and strong defier of all order,
His Loves are wanderers, they knock at each door,
And taste each dish, but are no residents:
Or say he may be brought to think of Marriage,
(As 'twill be no small labour) thy hopes are strangers.
I know there is a labour'd match, now follow'd,
(Now at this time, for which he was sent for home too)
Be not abus'd, Natolet has two fair Daughters,
And he must take his choice.
Or. Let him take freely;
For all this I despair not; my mind tells me
That I, and only I, must make him perfect;
And in that hope I rest.
De-Gar. Since y'are so confident,
Prosper your hope; I'll be no adversary;
Keep your self fair and right, he shall not wrong ye.
Or. When I forget my vertue, no man know me.
[Exeunt.
SCENE II.
Enter Mirabel, Pinac, Bellure, and Servants.
Mir. Welcome to Paris once more, Gentlemen;
We have had a merry and a lusty Ordinary,
And Wine, and good meat, and a bounsing Reckoning;
And let it go for once; 'Tis a good Physick,
Only the Wenches are not for my diet,
They are too lean and thin; their embraces brawn-faln.
Give me the plump Venetian, fat, and lusty,
That meets me soft and supple; smiles upon me,
As if a Cup of full Wine leapt to kiss me;
These slight things I affect not.
Pin. They are ill built;
Pin-buttockt, like your dainty Barbaries,
And weak i'th' pasterns; they'll endure no hardness.
Mir. There's nothing good, or handsom bred amongst us:
Till we are travel'd, and live abroad, we are Coxcombs:
Ye talk of France, a slight unseason'd Country,
Abundance of gross food, which makes us Block-heads:
We are fair set out indeed, and so are fore-horses:
Men say we are great Courtiers, men abuse us:
We are wise, and valiant too, non credo, Seignior:
Our Women the best Linguists, they are Parrats;
O' this side the Alpes they are nothing but meer Drolleries:
Ha, Roma la Santa, Italy for my money,
Their policies, their customs, their frugalities,
Their courtesies so open, yet so reserved too,
As when ye think y'are known best, ye are a stranger;
The very pick-teeth speak more man than we do,
And season of more salt.
Pin. 'Tis a brave Country:
Not pester'd with your stubborn precise Puppies,
That turn all useful and allow'd contentments
To scabs and scruples; hang 'em Capon-worshippers.
Bel. I like that freedom well, and like their Women too,
And would fain do as others do; but I am so bashful,
So naturally an Ass: Look ye, I can look upon 'em,
And very willingly I go to see 'em,
(There's no man willinger) and I can kiss 'em,
And make a shift—
Mir. But if they chance to flout ye,
Or say ye are too bold; fie, Sir, remember;
I pray sit farther off;—
Bel. 'Tis true, I am humbled,
I am gone, I confess ingenuously I am silenced,
The spirit of Amber cannot force me answer.
Pin. Then would I sing and dance.
Bel. You have wherewithal, Sir.
Pin. And charge her up again.
Bel. I can be hang'd first;
Yet where I fasten well I am a tyrant.
Mir. Why, thou darst fight?
Bel. Yes, certainly, I dare fight;
And fight with any man at any weapon,
Would the other were no more; but a pox on't,
When I was sometimes in my height of hope,
And reasonable valiant that way, my heart harden'd,
Some scornful jest or other chops between me
And my desire: what would ye have me to do then, Gentlemen?
Mir. Belvere, you must be bolder: Travel three years,
And bring home such a Baby to betray ye
As bashfulness? a great fellow, and a Souldier?
Bel. You have the gift of impudence, be thankful;
Every man has not the like talent: I will study
And if it may be reveal'd to me.
Mir. Learn of me,
And of Pinac: no doubt you'll find employment;
Ladies will look for Courtship.
Pic. 'Tis but fleshing,
But standing one good brunt or two: hast thou any mind to marriage?
We'l provide thee some soft-natur'd wench, that's dumb too.
Mir. Or an old woman that cannot refuse thee in charity.
Bel. A dumb woman, or an old woman, that were eager
And car'd not for Discourse, I were excellent at.
Mi. You must now put on boldness, there's no avoiding it;
And stand all hazards; flye at all games bravely;
They'll say you went out like an Oxe, and return'd like an Ass else.
Bel. I shall make danger sure.
Mir. I am sent for home now,
I know it is to marry, but my Father shall pardon me,
Although it be a witty Ceremony,
And may concern me hereafter in my Gravity;
I will not lose the freedom of a Traveller;
A new strong lusty Bark cannot ride at one Anchor;
Shall I make divers suits to shew to the same eyes?
'Tis dull and home-spun; Study several pleasures,
And want employments for 'em? I'll be hang'd first;
Tye me to one smock? make my travels fruitless?
I'll none of that; for every fresh behaviour,
By your leave, Father, I must have a fresh Mistriss,
And a fresh favour too.
Bel. I like that passingly;
As many as you will, so they be willing,
Willing, and gentle, gentle.
Pin. There's no reason
A Gentleman, and a Traveller should be clapt up,
For 'tis a kind of Bæboes to be married
Before he manifest to the World his good parts:
Tug ever like a Rascal at one Oar?
Give me the Italian liberty.
Mir. That I study;
And that I will enjoy; Come, go in Gentlemen,
There mark how I behave my self, and follow. [Exeunt.
SCENE III.
Enter La-Castre, Natolet, Lugie[r], Rosa Lieura,
Lylia-Biancha.
La-Cas. You and your beauteous daughters are most welcome,
Beshrew my blood they are fair ones; welcom Beauties,
Welcome, sweet Birds.
Nat. They are bound much to your courtesies.
La-Cas. I hope we shall be nearer acquainted.
Nat. That's my hope too.
For certain, Sir, I much desire your Alliance:
You see 'em, they are no Gypsies, for their breeding,
It has not been so coarse, but they are able
To rank themselves with women of fair fashion;
Indeed they have been trained well.
Lug. Thank me.
Nat. Fit for the Heirs of that State I shall leave 'em;
To say more, is to sell 'em. They say your Son
Now he has travell'd must be wondrous curious,
And choice in what he takes: these are no coarse ones;
Sir, here's a merry wench, let him look to himself,
(All heart, i'faith) may chance to startle him;
For all his care, and travell'd caution,
May creep into his Eye; if he love Gravity,
Affect a solemn face, there's one will fit him.
La-C. So young, and so demure?
Nat. She is my Daughter,
Else I would tell you, Sir, she is a Mistriss
Both of those manners and that modesty
You would wonder at: She is no often Speaker,
But when she does, she speaks well; Nor no Reveller,
Yet she can dance, and has studied the Court Elements,
And sings, as some say, handsomely; if a woman,
With the decency of her Sex, may be a Scholar,
I can assure ye, Sir, she understands too.
La-C. These are fit Garments, Sir.
Lug. Thank them that cut 'em;
Yes, they are handsome women; they have handsome parts too;
Pretty becoming parts.
La-C. 'Tis like they have, Sir.
Lug. Yes, yes, and handsome Education they have had too,
Had it abundantly; they need not blush at it;
I taught it, I'll avouch it.
La-C. You say well, Sir.
Lug. I know what I say, Sir, and I say but right, Sir;
I am no Trumpet of their Commendations
Before their Father; else I should say farther.
La-C. 'Pray ye, what's this Gentleman?
Nat. One that lives with me, Sir;
A man well bred and learn'd, but blunt and bitter,
Yet it offends no wise man; I take pleasure in't:
Many fair gifts he has, in some of which
That lye most easie to their understandings,
H'as handsomely bred up my Girls, I thank him.
I have put it to 'em, that's my part, I have urg'd it,
It seems they are of years now to take hold on't.
He's wondrous blunt.
La-C. By my faith I was afraid of him:
Does he not fall out with the Gentlewomen sometimes?
Nat. No, no, he's that way moderate, and discreet, Sir.
Ros. If he did, we should be too hard for him.
Lug. Well said Sulphur:
Too hard for thy Husbands head if he wear not armour.
Enter Mirabel, Pinac, De-Gard, [Belleur,] and Oriana.
Nat. Many of these bickrings, Sir.
La-C. I am glad they are no Oracles;
Sure, as I live, he beats them, he's so puisant.
Or. Well, if ye do forget—
Mir. Prithee hold thy peace;
I know thou art a pretty wench; I know thou lov'st me,
Preserve it till we have a fit time to discourse on't,
And a fit place: I'll ease thy heart I warrant thee:
Thou seest I have much to do now.
Or. I am answer'd, Sir:
With me ye shall have nothing on these conditions.
De-Gard. Your Father and your friends.
La-C. You are welcome home, Sir;
'Bless ye, ye are very welcome:
'Pray know this Gentleman,
And these fair Ladies.
Nat. Monsieur Mirabell,
I am much affected with your fair return, Sir;
You bring a general joy.
Mir. I bring you service,
And these bright Beauties, Sir.
Nat. Welcome home, Gentlemen,
Welcome, with all my heart.
Bel. Pin. We thank ye, Sir.
La-C. Your friends will have their share too.
Bel. Sir, we hope
They'll look upon us, though we shew like strangers.
Nat. Monsieur De-Gard, I must salute you also,
And this fair Gentlewoman: you are welcome from your Travel too.
All welcome, all.
De-Gard. We render ye our loves, Sir:
The best Wealth we bring home: By your Favours, Beauties,
One of these two: you know my meaning.
Or. Well, Sir:
They are fair and handsom, I must needs confess it;
And let it prove the worst, I shall live after it,
Whilst I have meat and drink Love cannot starve me;
For if I dye o'th' first fit I am unhappy,
And worthy to be buried with my heels upward.
Mir. To marry, Sir?
La-C. You know I am an old man,
And every hour declining to my Grave,
One foot already in, more Sons I have not,
Nor more I dare not seek whilst you are worthy,
In you lies all my hope, and all my name,
The making good or wretched of my memory,
The safety of my state.
Mir. And you have provided
Out of this tenderness these handsom Gentlewomen,
Daughters to this rich man, to take my choice of?
La-C. I have, dear Son.
Mir. 'Tis true, ye are old, and feebled;
Would ye were young again, and in full vigor;
I love a bounteous Fathers life, a long one,
I am none of those that when they shoot to ripeness,
Do what they can to break the boughs they grew on;
I wish ye many years and many Riches,
And pleasures to enjoy 'em: But for Marriage,
I neither yet believe in't, nor affect it,
Nor think it fit.
La-C. You will render me your reasons?
Mir. Yes, Sir, both short and pithy, and these they are:
You would have me marry a Maid?
La-C. A Maid? what else?
Mir. Yes, there be things called Widows, dead mens Wills,
I never lov'd to prove those; nor never long'd yet
To be buried alive in another mans cold monument.
And there be maids appearing, and maids being:
The appearing are fantastick things, meer shadows;
And if you mark 'em well, they want their heads too;
Only the World to cozen misty eyes,
Has clapt 'em on new faces. The maids being,
A man may venture on, if he be so mad to marry;
If he have neither fear before his eyes, nor fortune;
And let him take heed how he gathers these too,
For look ye, father, they are just like melons,
Musk-melons are the emblems of these maids;
Now they are ripe, now cut 'em, they taste pleasantly,
And are a dainty fruit, digested easily:
Neglect this present time, and come to morrow,
They are so ripe they are rotten gone, their sweetness
Run into humour, and their taste to surfeit.
La-C. Why, these are now ripe, Son.
Mir. I'll try them presently,
And if I like their taste—
La-C. 'Pray ye please your self, Sir.
Mir. That liberty is my due, and I'll maintain it:
Lady, what think you of a handsom man now?
Ros. A wholsom too, Sir.
Mir. That's as you make your Bargain.
A handsom, wholsom man then, and a kind man,
To cheer your heart up, to rejoyce you, Lady?
Ros. Yes Sir, I love rejoycing.
Mir. To lye close to you?
Close as a Cockle? keep the cold nights from you?
Ros. That will be lookt for too, our bodies ask it.
Mir. And get two Boys at every Birth?
Ros. That's nothing,
I have known a Cobler do it, a poor thin Cobler;
A Cobler out of mouldy Cheese perform it,
Cabbage, and coarse black Bread; methinks a Gentleman
Should take foul scorn to have an awl outname him.
Two at a Birth? why, every house-Dove has it:
That man that feeds well, promises as well too,
I should expect indeed something of worth from.
Ye talk of two?
Mir. She would have me get two dozen,
Like Buttons, at a Birth.
Ros. You love to brag, Sir.
If you proclaim these offers at your Marriage,
You are a pretty timber'd man, take heed.
They may be taken hold of, and expected,
Yes, if not hoped for at a higher rate too.
Mir. I will take heed, and thank ye for your counsel:
Father, what think you?
La-C. 'Tis a merry Gentlewoman;
Will make, no doubt, a good wife.
Mir. Not for me:
I marry her, and happily get nothing;
In what a state am I then? Father, I shall suffer
For any thing I hear to the contrary, more majorum,
I were as sure to be a Cuckold, Father,
A Gentleman of Antler.
La-C. Away, away, fool.
Mir. As I am sure to fail her expectation,
I had rather get the Pox than get her Babies.
La-C. Ye are much to blame; if this do not affect ye,
'Pray try the other; she's of a more demure way.
Bel. That I had but the audacity to talk thus!
I love that plain-spoken Gentlewoman admirably,
And certain I could go as near to please her,
If down-right doing—she has a per'lous Countenance,
If I could meet one that would believe me,
And take my honest meaning without circumstance.
Mir. You shall have your will, Sir, I will try the other,
But 'twill be to small use. I hope, fair Lady
(For methinks in your eyes I see more mercy)
You will enjoin your Lover a less penance;
And though I'll promise much, as men are liberal,
And vow an ample sacrifice of service,
Yet your discretion, and your tenderness,
And thriftiness in Love, good huswives carefulness
To keep the stock entire—
Lil. Good Sir, speak louder,
That these may witness too ye talk of nothing,
I should be loth alone to bear the burthen
Of so much indiscretion.
Mir. Hark ye, hark ye;
Ods bobs, you are angry, Lady.
Lil. Angry? no, Sir;
I never own'd an anger to lose poorly.
Mir. But you can love for all this, and delight too,
For all your set-austerity, to hear
Of a good husband, Lady?
Lil. You say true, Sir:
For by my troth, I have heard of none these ten years,
They are so rare, and there are so many, Sir,
So many longing-women on their knees too,
That pray the dropping down of these good husbands,
The droping down from heaven; for they are not bred [here],
That you may guess at all my hope, but hearing—
Mir. Why may not I be one?
Lil. You were near 'em once, Sir,
When ye came over the Alpes; those are near Heaven;
But since ye miss'd that happiness, there is no hope of ye.
Mir. Can ye love a man?
Lil. Yes, if the man be lovely;
That is, be honest, modest; I would have him valiant,
His anger slow, but certain for his honour;
Travell'd he should be, but through himself exactly;
For 'tis fairer to know manners well than Countries;
He must be no vain Talker, nor no Lover
To hear himself talk, they are brags of a wanderer,
Of one finds no retreict for fair behaviour;
Would ye learn more?
Mir. Yes.
Lil. Learn to hold your peace then,
Fond Girls are got with tongues, women with tempers.
Mir. Women, with I know what; but let this vanish:
Go thy way good Wife Bias; sure thy Husband
Must have a strong Philosophers stone, he will ne'r please thee else.
Here's a starcht piece of austerity; do you hear, Father?
Do you hear this moral Lecture?
La-C. Yes, and like it.
Mir. Why, there's your judgment now; there's an old bolt shot:
This thing must have the strangest observation,
Do you mark me (father?) when she is married once,
The strangest custom too of admiration
On all she does and speaks, 'twill be past sufferance;
I must not lie with her in common language,
Nor cry have at thee, Kate, I shall be hiss'd then;
Nor eat my meat without the sawce of sentences,
Your powder'd Beef, and Problems, a rare diet;
My first Son, Monsieur Aristotle, I know it,
Great Master of the Metaphysicks, or so;
The second Solon, and the best Law-setter;
And I must look Egyptian God-fathers,
Which will be no small trouble: my eldest daughter
Sapho, or such a fidling kind of Poetess,
And brought up, invita Minerva, at her needle.
My dogs must look their names too, and all Spartan,
Lelaps, Melampus; no more Fox and Baudiface.
I married to a sullen set of sentences?
To one that weighs her words and her behaviours
In the gold-weights of discretion? I'll be hang'd first.
La-C. Prithee reclaim thy self.
Mir. 'Pray ye give me time then;
If they can set me any thing to play at,
That seems fit for a Gamester, have at the fairest
Till I see more, and try more.
La-C. Take your time then,
I'll bar ye no fair liberty: come Gentlemen,
And Ladies come: to all once more welcome,
And now let's in to supper.
Mir. How dost' like 'em?
Pin. They are fair enough, but of so strange behaviours.
Mir. Too strange for me; I must have those have mettle,
And mettle to my mind; Come, let's be merry.
Bel. 'Bless me from this woman: I would stand the Cannon
Before ten words of hers.
De-Gar. Do you find him now?
Do you think he will be ever firm?
Or. I fear not. [Exeunt.